


Dandelion

by Shaye



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:57:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4374524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaye/pseuds/Shaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>\\ “And did you love me?” he asks.</p><p>I keep my eyes on the tiled floor. “Everyone says I did. Everyone says that's why Snow had you tortured. To break me.”</p><p>“That's not an answer,” he tells me. \\</p><p>Due to the hijacking Peeta couldn't understand that this was Katniss' way of expressing her feelings. But what if she had tried to explain?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dandelion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AkaiEcho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkaiEcho/gifts).



> For the lovely Fran. Thanks for the prompt!

“And did you love me?” he asks.

I keep my eyes on the tiled floor. “Everyone says I did. Everyone says that's why Snow had you tortured. To break me.”

“That's not an answer,” he tells me.

I continue to stare at the floor. The barren, sterile floor. In the room I hate, in the hospital I hate, in the district I think I might also hate. It’s more appealing than the eyes staring right through me; maybe not accurately but still just as penetrating. In the back of my mind I hear him continue. The Games. Gale. Kissing. Gale? I look up slowly, still avoiding his eyes, trying to find the words I know won’t come. They’re caught in my throat, choking me, or maybe that’s the uncertainty I’ve left Peeta with ever since our first Games. Ever since I told him I was confused about Gale.

I want to run or scream but I’m frozen, rooted to the ground. I consider telling him of our nights on the train and our sharing of nightmares. I think of telling him about the night on the beach. Instead I murmur, so softly I’m sure he can barely hear it, “Dandelion.”

“What?” He stops asking me things (things I don’t have the answers to) and squints. 

I didn’t think this through. Nothing past the single word at least. I shake my head and plow on anyway. “You gave me a dandelion.” I stumble on the words. “You gave me dandelions.”

“Katniss, wha- you’re not making sense. You said I remembered and that-” I cover my eyes and blow out a breath. I try to count to ten, to free the words from their trap. When I open my eyes, Peeta is still talking. “None of this is helping. Are you going to answer?”

Grabbing his bound arms, I can practically hear the doctors screaming at me. Haymitch is in my ear, telling me to back off. He wants me to give Peeta space and not take any chances. But I have to do this; I at least have to try. Peeta was always there for me, even when I cast him out. I move my hand to my ear and pluck out the tiny contraption before throwing it to the floor. I stomp on it, which probably isn’t the best idea, but it suits my purposes. I can’t have people in my head.

“You loved me… and I think about you. You gave me the bread.” It’s a statement but he nods anyway. “But it was more. I mean, at least to me.” Now that I’m talking he seems a little more comfortable. I wonder how long I’ve stared at him. “You gave me the dandelion, the one from the next day. I didn’t see it before. You gave it to me,” I say. I feel those sounds building up inside of me and I know I’m about to cry. I know I’m not doing a very good job of making him understand. “You gave me the bread and the dandelion and I survived.” I pause. “I couldn’t have lived without you.”

“Survival isn’t love,” Peeta says. 

“More than survival. You gave me hope.” Tears are running down my face and I can’t help but wonder when I got so attached to the boy with the bread. Even with his eyes hard, the blue irises ice, I can’t look away. What happened to writing him off?

“Hope isn’t-”

“Then what is?” I scream. “I was dead. Ready to die! And you saved me. You kept me going. And not just because of the food. I had hope and something to do with my life. I found you in the games and stayed with you because I needed you, wanted you. It would’ve been easier to die than to kill you!” I’m shaking and he’s losing his calm but I have one more thing to say.

“So if all of it was fake,” I turn to leave, “why did those other kisses feel so real?” I blush even as angry and emotional as I currently am. I remember the hunger that couldn’t be quenched and Finnick talking about my love for Peeta. No more words will come out. I hope he understands the rest and how anything other than hope, life, and want refuses to leave my mouth. The other words stick. They bring more fear than the war raging outside. Because I have to care. I have to love. And I can’t lose that again. 

Then I’m gone. Out the door and down the hallway to one of the warm pipes behind the laundry room. But the haunting look in his eyes doesn’t leave me. All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. And I don’t know if my words will ever be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this fits with the Katniss we all know and love! Please let me know what you think.


End file.
